Through the Pain
by MegEvans1983
Summary: When Andy is faced with an incredible loss - how will she deal with it? Set in season five-ish where Sam and Andy are back together. Warning: deals with a character death!
1. Too many memories

**A/N: **Saw this scenario mentioned in a post on tumblr, and from there my muses began to work overtime ;)

For the purpose of this story Sam and Andy are back together and the timeline is season five-ish :)

_**Warning:**_ it does deal with a character death - so if you're not into that sort of thing, I'd turn around now ... and **NO** it isn't Sam or Andy - they're completely safe in this one.

Enjoy!

* * *

**[chapter one]**

_Dazed._

_Stripped bare._

That's only a couple of words to describe how Andy McNally feels right now – embarking on a day that'll bring insurmountable grief to the surface.

_Again_.

Andy thinks that she's actually dealing pretty well – all things considered. She even managed to get a cup of coffee and a few pieces of toast down this morning.

That's progress.

She had promised Sam that she'd eat _something_, and when he'd turned narrowed eyes on her, Andy had just shrugged her shoulders small telling him that the word she'd used had been _something_ – not the scrumptious breakfast table he'd scurried up on a whim.

But Sam had accepted it, because he _loves_ her, and because he knows what an hellish affair today will be, and him grilling her about her eating habits is the last thing that Andy needs right now – today of all days.

She is absently combing her fingers through her ponytail, staring straight ahead at the framed photograph standing on her dresser in a silver frame.

* * *

"_I love you, Kiddo."_

* * *

It's an endearment that Andy has heard throughout her life – four simple words that have left her dad's lips and entered her heart.

Four _simple_ words, but also four _poignant_ words that have meant so much to Andy growing up, because everything else had been fickle except for her dad's love for her.

_That_ had been the constant.

But standing in the middle of the bedroom, Andy suddenly realizes that it's an endearment that she'll never hear again.

Thomas McNally is dead.

_Dead._

Andy still can't believe that today is his funeral.

She's not ready for _this_. She's not ready to say goodbye to the one man, who has taken care of her without any question.

Without any reservation.

Well, except for one.

_Sam._

Andy can feel his presence close by – even when she's buried in the depths of her depression over the loss of her father.

Sam has been hovering in the shadows ever since _it_ happened. Standing by in case she'd need anything, he swears that he's sleeping at night, but Andy knows that he's lying, because she's right next to him in bed; awake.

They're quite the pair.

Andy honestly doesn't know where she'd be if it hadn't been for him; if it hadn't been for Sam. They have been through hell and back together – _and_ apart.

It seems that as soon as everything with Marlo had quieted down, the next obstacle had knocked on their proverbial door.

Tommy had been killed in a hit and run.

* * *

_She and Diaz had been called out to a 480; a hit and run._

_It had been raining non-stop for days, and it was nearing midnight when the call came in._

_The roads were flooded, which had also been one of Frank's points during parade that evening – to watch each other's backs but also the citizens of Toronto's._

_Andy had passed Sam in the hallway when Chris and she had been on their way out to the squad car. He had been in court all day on a case that had kept him up countless nights; despite the fact that he wouldn't own up to it._

_Typically him._

_They had briefly agreed to spend the night at Sam's, which they had been doing for the past couple of months anyway._

_Sam and Andy had yet to have the __**'we-spend-all-our-time-here-why-don't-you-just-mov e-in?'**__ conversation._

_They were still a little gun shy from what had happened following Andy's return from the taskforce, but at the same time they were both adamant in making it last __**this**__ time around._

"_Fire it up, McNally!" Diaz roared next to her, pushing down on the accelerator as Andy flipped on the sirens._

_He had been fired up ever since Denise and Christian had relocated to Timmins – without him. Chris was struggling – any idiot could see that. But in true Diaz fashion he hid that very struggle behind a stoic façade that constantly needed action __**on**__ the job to put everything __**off**__ the job behind him._

_Or so he thought._

_Andy could see right through his disguise – especially since it was the same bull Sam had pulled after Jerry's death. _

_At least Sam had worked through it in just the nick of time, and she hoped that the same could be said for Chris down the line. _

_He was a great guy, and one that Andy didn't want to see wither away because he was too proud to ask for help when __**he**__ needed it. _

_Once they'd reached the scene of the crime, everything had seemed to happen in a blur. Everything had seemed normal when Andy had gotten out of the squad car; the ambulances were there, Gail and Dov were writing down witness testimony, while Chloe was helping Oliver and Nick to contain the scene. _

_But what really baffled Andy was why she and Diaz had been called to the scene. _

_There were more than enough people on the job, and for some reason none of them deigned to look at her, which made a cold shiver run down her spine._

_But still it wasn't until Oliver began to walk towards Andy with his arms wide open and a sheer look of devastation on his face that she knew that something terrible had happened._

_And then suddenly a terrible thought had manifested itself in her mind, could it be? Had he made it home from the Division in one piece? He had been so tired lately. What if it was..? _

"_Is it __**him**__?" Andy spoke on the verge of tears unable to get Sam's name across her lips when Oliver stopped right in front of her._

"_Andy..," he began to say but stopped when a single tear had begun to run down her cheek._

_Oliver never called her anything but '__**McNally'**__ on the job unless the matter was of a personal nature. That was one of the many reasons that she respected him; he had a clear line between the job and his private life._

_Now that Andy was a part of Sam's life again that also meant that she was a part of Oliver's, which she was grateful for._

_He had throughout her time at 15 Division been a father figure for her, and after returning from the taskforce and finding Sam dating Marlo, Oliver had encouraged her to never give up hope. _

_Because she and Sam were meant to be._

"_Just tell me, Oliver!" she snapped at him unwittingly. "Please," she begged him. "Is it Sam?" Andy asked around the lump in her throat._

"_No."_

_Andy closed her eyes in relief – just the few minutes that dreadful thought had been in her mind had made her blood run cold._

_But wait a minute - if it wasn't Sam, then who was it?_

_Oliver's head was bowed; unable to meet Andy's confused eyes when she once again asked who it was if it wasn't Sam._

_By the time, he looked up at her again, there were tears shining in Shaw's eyes, and she felt him place his hands on her shoulders._

"_Oliver, who is it?"_

_It wasn't until her eyes caught sight of her dad's shriveled up car that Andy began to realize what must have happened._

_Oliver pulled her into his arms instantly, shooting an incredulous glare Chris' way – this had not been the way Shaw had wanted to tell Andy that Tommy was dead._

_But what could Diaz really have done differently? The call had come through, and they had to answer it – it was their job._

"_I'm so sorry," he whispered against Andy's drenched cheek – if the wetness was from the rain or her tears she didn't know._

_But what she did know was that those three words from Oliver were the last thing that she heard before collapsing in his arms._

_Everything went black._

_And she was gone. _

* * *

Sam's hands are pressed against her shoulders – rubbing gently, encouraging Andy to return to the present with him.

"It's time."

It's a statement of fact - a fact that she doesn't want to acknowledge.

Actually, Andy wants to push it so far back in her conscience that she'll forget this past week has even happened.

On a sigh, she manages to get the words, "I don't want it to be," out.

"I know, Andy," Sam says. "I know," he repeats pressing a kiss to the back of her head, while continuing to rub her shoulders.

* * *

"_Where is she?!" Sam barked at Diaz when he came running into the hallway of the Division with a clear objective in mind: to __**find**__ his girlfriend, who'd passed out after learning that her father was dead._

"_I'm so sorry..," Chris profusely apologized again and again feeling like the lowest of the low for having driven Andy to the location of her father's demise._

"_Where?!" Sam yelled not caring that the former rookie was disintegrating in front of his very eyes. He __**needed**__ to see her. _

"_Swarek, she's up in your office with Shaw," Best told him after having heard the commotion in the hallway. _

_Without apologizing to Diaz or giving Frank much of a greeting, Sam sprinted down the hallway, past all the desks, and up the stairs before landing in his office._

_What he saw sitting in a chair cradling a mug of what he believed to be tea between her hands didn't resemble the Andy McNally, who'd knocked him on his ass that first day in the alley._

_Her head was tilted down, her feet beating a staccato rhythm into the carpet unaware of the happenings around her._

_Sam gave Oliver, who was sitting next to Andy a nod, as his friend got up from his seat, squeezed one of her shoulders before walking towards him._

"_How is she?" he asked._

_Once he'd gotten the call that Tommy was dead and Andy had subsequently passed out in Oliver's arms, he'd driven like a maniac on very little sleep – in order to get to her._

"_Hasn't uttered a word since she came to, I don't even think she knows that I've been with her for the past hour."_

_Sam nodded his head in a sign of understanding before bobbing his head in the direction of the mug she was holding in-between her hands. _

"_Luke-warm at best," Oliver said. "No pun intended." He added quietly. "Peck got her into the sweats and made the aforementioned tea for her."_

"_Alright, thanks," Sam thanked him before walking towards her, while Shaw left the room to give them some privacy._

_Crouching down in front of her, he placed his hands on top of Andy's, "hey..," Sam softly whispered prying the mug that had the words __**'DAD'**__ spelled out on the side of the mug._

'_**Great thinking there, Peck,'**__ he mused uncharitably knowing within himself that Gail had probably just grabbed the nearest thing in the kitchen when tending to Andy, but still __**if**__ McNally had seen the writing on that mug, it sure wouldn't have made tonight any better. _

_Andy didn't acknowledge him, merely kept her eyes trained on the floor, and her feet didn't stop their pounding rhythm either until Sam placed his warm hands on her knees. _

"_I'm here, Andy," he began to say knowing that if she wouldn't look at him, then at least she could hear him. "I am so sorry about Tommy, but I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere."_

"_Sam..?" she asked softly – the same tone of voice that she'd use when waking up in the morning, and searching the bed for him with her hands._

"_Hey..," Sam smiled tenderly at her when her wet eyes meet his browns and she practically dived at him landing on his lap with her arms immediately curling around his neck. "Whoa!" he exclaimed at the impact, but secretly relished in the fact that she needed him so much._

"_I thought it was you..," Andy sobbed into the side of his neck, while Sam rubbed her back in soothing motions. _

"_How do you mean?" he asked hating the fact that she was falling apart around him, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it._

"_And when I found out it wasn't," she hiccupped – still with her head buried in Sam's neck. "I felt __**relieved**__..," Andy all but spat out the word thinking the very worst of herself._

_Pulling slightly back, Sam used his thumb and index finger to tilt her head up. "Listen to me, Andy," he began. "You're human - of course you were relieved when you found out that I wasn't the one, who was hurt."_

"_But my dad..," she cried unable to shake the feeling that she had let Tommy down in the worst way imaginable. _

"_Shh..," Sam whispered cradling her head against his neck again, as Andy's body quivered despite the fact that she was pressed up against his warm body. "What can I do for you? __**Anything**__, Andy?" he asked needing to do something __**for **__her._

"_Don't ever leave." She tightened her hold around his neck making Sam realize that everything that she'd ever been afraid of had happened._

_Tommy had__** left**__ her._

_Not by choice, but still he wouldn't be there for her anymore when she'd need him. He'd been a pivotal part of Andy's life, and now he was just __**gone**__._

_Her entire basis for __**being**__ had been knocked into a million little pieces, and Sam would be damned if that meant that Claire could begin weaseling her way back into Andy's life._

_Not without __**him**__ being a buffer at the very least._

_Andy needed him now more than she ever had before, and Sam would sure as hell rise to the occasion – damn Claire and her feelings._

"_I won't..," he promised her burying his face in Andy's neck, as she was in his. Sam rocked her back and forth; sitting astride his lap. _

_He would gladly sit like that for all eternity- if she needed him to, but he figured that his legs would cramp up before that happened. _

_But for the time being,__** they**__ stayed put._

_**For**__ Andy._

* * *

Claire has been unusually _present_ through this whole thing. Despite the fact that things had been intense between her and Tommy ever since she'd returned to Toronto.

She has helped Andy plan his funeral and has taken care of everything that needed taking care of – including stuff that Andy hadn't even thought of.

Not to say that Claire and Sam haven't disagreed when it comes to how Andy is dealing with everything. Her mother had wanted to take her home, and give her a little space from it all, but Sam had promptly vetoed that idea.

* * *

"_You want to what?!" Sam snapped at Claire on day two post Tommy's death. They were standing in the kitchen making tea, while Andy was resting in her bedroom – or trying to._

_They hadn't even been able to agree on which beverage to make – Sam wanted to make her tea, while her mother argued that coffee was better._

_To show what Sam's place in Andy's life was, he had grabbed the kettle and proceeded to pour water into it, since Andy had asked for some tea, and if he couldn't control anything else that was happening in their lives right now – __**this**__ would suffice._

_Folding her arms in front of her chest, Claire told him that it would do Andy some good to get out from under all this devastation for a couple of days._

"_Do you really think that a change of scenery will make her forget that her father is __**dead**__?" He asked turning the kettle on before turning to glare at her._

"_Of course not!" Claire argued. "But I'm her mother..," she began to say but was cut off by Sam._

"_Barely," he scoffed before opening a cabinet to look for some Earl Grey._

"…_and I know what's best for her."_

"_Really?" Sam asked with an arched eyebrow turning away from his search to shoot an incredulous glare at her._

"_Let's not play the blame game here, __**Cowboy**__," Claire sneered at him before opening a bag of croissants that she'd picked up at a local bakery._

"_Look!" Sam exclaimed slamming down a teabag on the counter before addressing Andy's mother with what little self-control he had left. "I __**love**__ Andy; always have and always will. I have messed up – I know that. But we've worked through all of that, and if this little show of yours," he said gesturing with his hands in Claire's direction, "is in order to push me out of the picture, then you've got another thing coming – because I'm not going anywhere."_

"_Where have I heard that before..?" Claire muttered under her breath._

"_Will you two knock it off?!" Andy appeared in the doorway of her bedroom looking like a mess. She was wearing an old academy tee shirt of Sam's that reached her to right above the knees._

_Both of their heads turned in her direction – Sam was the only one wearing an apologetic expression on his face._

"_Hey..," he murmured, quickly walking to her and pulling Andy into his arms. "I thought you would try to get some sleep?" Sam asked running a hand up and down her cotton clad back, while the other was tucking her head underneath his chin._

"_In this noise..?" Andy scoffed wrapping her arms around his waist, and squeezing him tight._

"_Sorry," he hummed against her hair._

"_Honey, here's some tea," Claire offered having used the time that Andy had been wrapped up in Sam's arms to finish making her the beverage of Sam's choice. "Just the way that you like it," she didn't miss the eye roll that Sam gave her over Andy's head._

"_Thanks Claire," she smiled gratefully at her mother before reluctantly separating her body from Sam's, and accepting the mug of tea._

"_You're welcome," she smiled at her daughter right before Andy's face scrunched up in a scowl indicating that there was something wrong with the tea. "What's wrong?" Claire asked alarmed._

"_Nothing," Andy shrugged. "I just usually take it with milk that's all..," she said before raising the mug for another taste._

"_No problem," her mother said grabbing the mug right out of Andy's grasp. The fact that Claire didn't know how her daughter took her tea made Sam __**very**__ happy._

"_It's okay," Andy tried to make peace but Claire was unyielding in wanting to make her daughter a mug of __**perfect **__tea._

"_If a job is worth doing, it's worth doing __**right**__." She said opening the fridge; her back turned to Sam and Andy, who were still standing in the living room. _

"_How are you?" Sam asked cupping Andy's cheeks in his hands. "Really?" he prodded not wanting to get her signature reply._

'_**I'm fine'.**_

_Shrugging her shoulders small, she gave him as close to an honest answer as she could with an, "I'm managing." _

"_How about food?" he asked concerned._

"_I've brought some croissants from that bakery you like," Claire butted in, handing Andy a mug of tea with far too much milk in it, but she didn't have the heart to tell her so._

"_I can't," she waved a hand in front of her indicating that she wouldn't be able to keep it down._

"_When's the last time that you ate?" her mother asked, and for once Sam didn't want to push one of those croissants into her big mouth to shut her up._

"_Yesterday."_

_Scoffing Sam told her that the nachos that Nash' kid had brought with him wasn't considered as one of the major food groups by any stretch of the imagination. _

"_Andy, really," Claire piped up, and just like __**that**__ Sam was back to wanting to strangle her._

"_I'm __**fine**__."_

"_Obviously," she moaned making Andy put the mug of tea down much to Sam's surprise, since it was her go-to-method when she's feeling under the weather or stressed out._

"_Will you take me home?" Andy asked having turned around to look up at Sam with pleading eyes._

"_You __**are**__ home," Claire inserted making Andy close her eyes in defeat. "Besides," she said. "__**I**__ was thinking that maybe you'd like to spend a few days at my place..?"_

"_Why?" Andy asked turning around in Sam's arms to look at her mother._

"_I don't think that Claire trusts me to take care of you," Sam offered up tightening his hold around her shoulders._

"_Is __**that**__ it?"_

"_Of course not!" she insisted vehemently. "I just thought..," she began to say, but was cut off mid-sentence when Andy told her that she feels safe when she's with Sam._

"_Besides..," she added turning around in his arms to look up at him. "I miss Boo."_

"_The feeling is mutual believe me," Sam scoffed. "Apparently no one has blocks of ice for feet like you; he's not quite satisfied with Oliver's." He quipped making her lips curve into a small smile before it disappeared again._

"_Andy, I really…" Claire tried to object but kept her mouth shut when Sam shot her a warning glare from where he was standing holding Andy in his arms._

"_It's settled then."_

* * *

Sam and Andy have agreed to look through Tommy's stuff when she's feeling up to it.

Just getting through this past week has taken so much energy - far more than she has had, which is also why she knows that if it hadn't been for Sam, then she wouldn't even be able to see straight – let alone stand on her own two feet.

"You guys ready?" Traci's soft voice is asking from the doorway of the bedroom. Boo is hovering beside her; the pooch instinctively knowing that something is wrong.

Sam and Andy got him a little while back, having decided that a new start would entail a dog, and there had been no argument as to what they should name him.

* * *

"_Boo Radley. I've always loved that name for a dog."_

* * *

"As ready as I'll ever be," Andy ends up telling her best friend on a wobbly smile.

Traci nods her head at her before clapping her hand on her thigh making Boo follow her downstairs to where Leo is waiting in the kitchen.

"I _hate_ seeing you like this." Sensing the desperation in Sam's words, Andy turns around in his arms prompting him to keep on talking.

"I don't know what to do or say to make any of this better."

Tilting her head up, Andy looks into a pair of saddened browns, realizing that her grief is crippling him - because Sam can't _fix_ her grief over losing Tommy.

Only time will.

_Hopefully._

Reaching up, she places her hands on Sam's broad shoulders before telling him what Andy believes to be the God-honest truth. "Just you being here helps, Sam. Please believe that."

"Alright..," he covers Andy's hands with his own on his shoulders. "Remember our deal, eh?" Sam reminds her with a raised eyebrow.

"I remember," she sighs heavily.

"I mean it, Andy," he tells her pointedly. "You _have_ to eat something, that was the deal." Sam tries to jog her memory.

"Funeral first, food later," she tells him.

"Food _after_," Sam corrects her clearly before tucking Andy under his arm, as they make their way downstairs.

* * *

**A/N2: **I'd love it if you'd drop me and line or two in the box below :)

_Next up: Tommy's funeral proves to be more than Andy can handle._


	2. The final farewell

**A/N: **I want to thank you all for the wonderful reviews that I have gotten on this story :)

I have spent some time researching churches in the Toronto area, as well as a couple of sites describing what is said during a funeral. So, I sincerely hope that it matches up with the reality.

I have decided not to give Tommy a cop's funeral - given the way that he left the force, but as you will see in this chapter, he does get a little taste of it. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter as well, and leave me a word or two in the box at the bottom of the page ;)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _"Rookie Blue"_ and _"My Father, My Father"_ is property of Dakota Ellerton.

* * *

**[chapter two]**

St. Mary's Church is filled with people, who loved and cared for Tommy.

"We are gathered here today to say farewell to Thomas McNally, and to commit him into the hands of God."

It's surprising to Andy how many people's lives her father has touched, but she quickly realizes that that was the kind of man that he had been.

Andy is sitting up in the front pew flanked on one side by Sam, who is holding her hand tightly and by Claire on the other.

The drive to the church had been quiet; the hum of the engine having been the only sound that had existed after Sam had turned the stereo off when it had begun to play some loud rock music.

Traci and Leo are sitting right behind her and Sam – flanked by the rest of their friends on either side of them.

Reverend Fernando Couto has been a great support throughout this entire process. He has known Andy since she was a little girl and Tommy for several decades, so it had only seemed right that it should be him that would help Andy send her father off on his last journey.

Sam presses his lips against her temple when the rest of the congregation is about finished singing a hymn asking Andy if she's okay.

She turns her face towards his with a shaky smile on her lips. "I'm managing."

"Okay," he nods his head knowingly, while tightening his hold on her hand that is now safely placed in his lap, while his other arm is curled around the back of Andy's shoulders for support.

"In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit," Reverend Couto says before giving the Homily.

Andy knows what's coming after the Homily; he had asked her if there had been something that she would like to say as Tommy's daughter; a poem for instance. She had initially said no, but had then after a sleepless night of tossing and turning thought better of it.

The only thing that worries her right now is if she can get through it without breaking down in tears. Andy had known exactly which poem she'd want to recite from, but she'd also known that the odds of her finishing the poem without falling apart would be slim to none.

Andy hopes that _if_ she falters, then all she'll need to do is to look down at Sam, and find the strength that she needs to carry on.

"Now, Thomas' daughter, Andrea would like to recite a poem by Dakota Ellerton," the Reverend announces and she feels like all eyes fall on her. "Andrea?" he prompts Andy to join him by the altar.

Sam squeezes her hand one last time before Andy gets up from the pew, and walks to where Reverend Couto is standing.

"A couple of deep breaths, my dear..," he cautions her with a soft smile, knowing how excruciating these past couple of days have been for her.

Taking her spot, she takes a deep breath before reaching into the pocket of the black shift dress that she has on, pulling out a wrinkled piece of paper where the poem is written down on.

The microphone makes a loud screeching noise when Andy unfolds the piece of paper to such an extent that it almost scares her half to death.

She looks down to where Sam is sitting for the reassurance that she needs – with a small smile Andy approaches the microphone and begins to speak.

"Dakota Ellerton is a very young poet..," her voice is all but a screech, so she coughs a couple of times before speaking again. "Sorry," Andy reaches up to fiddle with the pendant of her necklace and holding onto the poem in a vice grip with the other before speaking again. "Dakota Ellerton is a very young poet," she repeats in her normal tone of voice.

Chancing a look in Sam's direction, she finds that he's still nodding his head at her encouragingly with a smile in place on his lips.

So far, so good.

"Ever since I read some of her works, I've been drawn into her writing style, and when Reverend Couto, here..," Andy gestures towards him with the hand that's holding the poem. "Asked me to pick something to read that would best describe my dad and what he meant to me," she bites down on her bottom lip upon realizing that she's just spoken about her dad in the past tense. Taking a deep breath, Andy adds, "This poem sprang to mind."

Her eyes move across all the faces in front of her – down in the pews. It amazes her that even with everything that Tommy's drinking had done to him and the people around him, that there were still so many people, who had come back into his life once he'd sobered up.

Andy's eyes halt on Amy, who is sitting with her son on the opposite pew of where Andy is sitting with Sam, Claire and Claire's husband.

She has never really gotten to know Amy, and she's really kicking herself for that one now; she had been a big part of her dad's life but lately Andy had been so occupied with work and Sam that even the visits once or twice a week had seemed impossible to keep.

Clearing her throat once more, she begins to recite the poem that in Andy's mind depicts the relationship that she had had with her dad.

* * *

_**My father, my father,  
I love he,  
My father, my father,  
made me see,  
How beautiful this world really can be.  
My father, my father,  
said to me,  
My daughter my daughter,  
come see me,  
I won't be around forever, and I have things that must be.  
My father, my father,  
don't die on me.**_

* * *

Her voice had cracked several times during the recitation, but it had been especially difficult to get through the last three lines of the poem.

Those were the lines that spoke the truth of the matter, that one's parents won't always be around, and that if Andy had been able to be there right before Tommy had died then she could've asked him to keep on fighting and to not leave her – much like she'd told Sam a couple of months ago when he'd been hurt in the line of duty.

But Sam had survived.

Tommy hadn't.

The tears that had been glistening in her eyes ever since she'd stepped foot in St. Mary's Church are now freely cascading down her cheeks.

Andy hasn't faltered though, she has gotten through the poem, and when she looks up from the piece of paper, that she had recited the poem from, it had almost been as if Tommy had been there.

Bright sunlight is streaming through the large windows in the church casting a golden glow on the flowers that have been strategically placed alongside the pews.

It's a beautiful sight, but a tragic one as well, because they signify the fact that her dad is gone and no matter how much she talks it over with Sam or Traci or Reverend Couto then it won't bring him back.

He's gone.

* * *

Reverend Couto walks ahead of Chris, Nick, Dov, Oliver, Sam and Amy's son; Brian, as they carry Tommy's coffin out of the church. They are followed closely behind by Andy, who's flanked on one side by Traci and Leo and on the other by Claire, as they all walk out of St. Mary's Church.

"How are you holding up?" Traci asks softly linking one arm with Andy's, while the other is holding onto Leo's hand.

Andy merely shakes her head, as they walk past all the tombstones in the cemetery directly linked to St. Mary's Church. "I don't know..," she says. "I keep on telling Sam that I'm _managing_, but…I really don't know, Trace." Andy sighs deeply.

Nodding her head, Traci tells her best friend that she recognizes the feeling. She had felt the exact same way back when Jerry had been killed.

"The pain will lessen in time Andy, it won't disappear, but it will lessen in strength, so that you'll be able to breathe again." She tells her.

Once they arrive at the gravesite, Andy notices that the men have placed Tommy's coffin in its rightful place, and she smiles softly at Traci as a thanks for the kind words before walking to stand next to Sam by the gravesite.

"Are you okay?" he asks wrapping one arm around the tops of her shoulders, and holding her hand with the other.

Shrugging her shoulders, Andy tells him that she's managing since that seems to be the term she's using these days.

"God, our Father, we entrust Thomas into your hands," Reverend Couto steps forward letting three hand-full's of soil fall onto the coffin, saying, "You gave him life, receive him in your peace and give him, through Jesus Christ, a joyful resurrection."

Clutching Sam's hand, Andy wipes away the tears that have fallen, while the Reverend has spoken. The arm that Sam has around the tops of her shoulders, has now traveled down to Andy's waist where he gives her a reassuring squeeze.

"Lord God, our Father in heaven, Lord God, the Son, and Saviour of the world, Lord God, the Holy Spirit, have mercy on us. At the moment of death, and on the last day, save us, merciful and gracious Lord God."

* * *

When the coffin is lowered into the ground, it's as if Andy's heart skips a beat. Her palms are sweaty, her head is achy and her feet are heavy.

In _this_ moment, she realizes that it's truly over.

There'll be no more Sunday morning visits before shift; no more trips to the park with Boo, no more phone calls describing the latest case that she's helped Sam crack.

No more.

Tommy McNally _is_ dead.

A sob tears from Andy's throat, and she is quickly pulled into Sam's embrace. He uses one arm to hold her to his body, while the other cradles the back of her head underneath his chin.

She can't even explain where it's all coming from, except for the fact that she's been holding it all in for days now. Andy has tried to be strong, to be the woman that her dad has raised and to make him proud of her, but in the process, she has forgotten to really mourn him.

"I've got you, Andy," Sam murmurs against her hair, and she swears that if it hadn't been for this man, then she'd be lying flat on her face next to her dad's gravesite.

She's _that_ exhausted.

Once Reverend Coutu can tell that Andy is okay, and he receives a nod to continue from Sam, he says, "Give him, o' Lord, your peace and let your eternal light shine upon him."

Gathering herself, Andy pulls out of Sam's arms, but keeping a firm hold of his hand in hers, when the rest of the congregation say, "Amen."

"Let us go in the peace of the Lord," the Reverend states gesturing his hand to the make-shift table that holds a huge array of red roses.

Andy walks first, closely followed by Sam to the table, where they each pick up a red rose. Walking hand in hand to the lowered coffin, Andy leans her head in over the spot, where Tommy now rests and speaks from the bottom of her heart.

"I love you, daddy," she feels a tear roll down her cheek, as the rose floats through the air before landing on top of the soil on top of the coffin.

Once Sam has paid his respects, he wraps an arm around Andy's waist as they make their way to where the Reverend is standing.

"It was a beautiful service, Reverend, thank you," she tells him.

Framing Andy's face with his hands, Fernando Couto, tells her something that warms her heart. "Thomas was a proud man, a stoic man, Andrea," she smiles at that. The Reverend always calls you by your birth name, and as Claire has said, Andrea is Andy's birth name. "But his love for you was unconditionally, he loved you beyond reason. Be proud of that, be proud of him and remember him in your heart, but don't let the grief shadow who he was and what he stood for."

Nodding her teary face at Reverend Couto's words, Andy tells him that she won't.

She and Sam take their places next to the Reverend when the people, who have attended the service, pay their condolences with either a shake of the hand or a hug.

By the time Sam and Andy are walking towards the silver truck, and en route to Sam's house to where they're having people over for some coffee and cake, Andy feels drained and not at all in the mood to entertain a house full of visitors – but she knows that she has to.

"I promise that an hour in, I'll start hinting to the fact that you're tired and that you need some peace and quiet." Sam promises helping Andy into the passenger seat of the truck.

"Promise?" she smiles sadly up at him.

Leaning in, Sam presses his lips against Andy's before saying, "I promise."

After he has shut the passenger door and is walking towards the driver's door, Andy's eyes drift to her dad's gravesite.

"Goodbye, daddy."

* * *

An hour later, Sam's house is filled with people who had known and loved Tommy McNally – they have formed small groups, talking about all the ways that Andy's dad had touched each of their lives.

Andy had busied herself, the minute that she and Sam had returned home, with the tasks of brewing coffee and unwrapping the cake that Sam had spent yesterday afternoon making, while Andy had been bundled up on the couch next to Boo.

Sam is out in the backyard with the dog and Leo, wanting to divert the little boy's attention from all the sad faces that he's seen today.

According to Traci, then Leo still asks where people go when they die, and after having seen Andy fall apart at Tommy's gravesite those questions had only intensified.

Andy is standing in the living room watching, as Claire is conversing with Chloe and Dov – the topic undoubtedly having to do with her work with children; she hardly speaks of anything else.

She returns a soft smile to Traci, who is standing by the windows overlooking the backyard with Oliver, watching Leo play fetch with Boo, which Sam supervises.

Andy's fingers are wrapped around the pendant of her necklace, a pendant that her dad had given her after her return from the taskforce.

* * *

_They had been sitting out on Tommy's deck, drinking some cold lemonade considering the warm weather they had been having at the time._

"_I have something for you," he'd announced reaching into his pocket for something._

"_Dad, you shouldn't have..," Andy tried to object. She felt so bad for having missed out on six months' worth of their father-daughter time already._

"_Humor me." Tommy smiled at her before placing a circular jewelry box on the small table in front of her._

"_Dad..," she sighed picking up the gift in her hands. "You shouldn't have. You should use your money on Amy, not me."_

_Shaking his head at his daughter, Tommy said, "Why don't __**you**__," he pointed a finger at Andy before continuing, "Let __**me**__," he pointed his finger back at himself. "Worry about __**my**__ money, and open up the gift I spent several hours picking out for you in the Eaton Centre." He said making it abundantly clear that shopping wasn't on Tommy's top ten list of things that he liked to do._

_Laughing out loud, Andy used her thumb and index finger to open the latch on the jewelry box, casting one last look at her dad before lifting the lid of the box._

"_Oh my God..," she gasped at the sight before her. _

_The necklace itself was red, but that wasn't even what had caught Andy's attention at first glance. It was the pendant attached to the necklace. A blue stone sat in the center of the pendant covered by copper wires on each side of it, which gave it an antique look._

"_It's a protection amulet." Tommy said. "I realize it's a bit late in the game," he added hinting to the fact that Andy had already been away on the taskforce. "But I'm sure that you'll find use for the protection later on as well." He winked at her._

"_It's magnificent, dad. Thank you," she pulled Tommy into a hug unable to put into words what this gift meant to her._

"_You're welcome, Kiddo," he replied, as they both sat back in the lounge chairs. "According to the girl at the store, then the stone," Tommy said pointing to the pendant, "Represents guiding, healing and protection for the person, who wears it."_

_Smiling at her dad, Andy picked the necklace up, and put it around her neck. "How does it look?" she asked closing the clasp of the necklace._

"_Beautiful, Kiddo," Tommy nodded his head at his daughter like the proud father that he was. "Just beautiful."_

* * *

"Go easy with him, Kiddo," Traci's voice tears Andy out of her walk down memory lane.

Leo is now sitting on the floor in the living room with Boo, patting the labradoodle's curly fur. But it isn't the sight of the two of them on the floor that causes tears to run down Andy's cheeks, it's the name that Traci had just uttered when telling Leo to take it easy with Boo.

_Kiddo._

"You okay, Andy?" Traci asks mid-laugh after having laughed at some corny joke that Oliver had told the group that they were now sitting with on the couch.

Clutching the pendant in her hand, she turns swiftly on her foot, darting up the stairs, which lead upstairs to the bedrooms and bathroom.

"Andy?!" Traci quickly gets on her two feet and moves towards the stairs, but Sam is quicker stopping his partner with a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"I'll go check on her, Nash. You stay down here and keep an eye on the troops." He says right before taking the stairs two at a time.

"Let me know if she needs anything," Traci tells Sam's retreating back, and she receives a raised hand in return saying that she'll be the first to know if they need anything.

After having checked the bedroom, he knocks softly on the ensuite bathroom.

"Andy?" Sam carefully opens the door, peaking his head through the small gap between the door and the frame of the door.

What he finds pressed up against the shower door breaks his heart. Andy's back is against the glass of the shower door, her knees are pulled up and her arms are wrapped around them. Her head is bowed and her forehead is resting against her knees.

"Baby..," he sighs. He closes the door softly behind him before hurrying to where she is sitting; Andy's entire body is shaking from the sobs that are tearing from her throat.

Squatting down in front of her, Sam places both of his hands on Andy's arms letting her know that he's here now. She lifts her head and meets his eyes.

"Andy..," Sam cups her cheek in his right hand, caressing the skin with his thumb, as he looks at his distraught girlfriend trying to cope with the fact that her dad is dead.

"I'm a mess," she hiccups.

Andy's eyes are red and puffy, and her eyeliner and mascara are a mess _underneath_ her eyes by now, but if anything she's a _beautiful_ mess by Sam's standards.

"Not at all."

He crawls into a sitting position next to her, lifting his arm and cradling her against his side. Tucking her head underneath his chin, Sam rubs a hand up and down Andy's arm letting his touch calm her.

A couple of minutes later, her breathing has returned to its normal pace, and her arms have inched their way around Sam's waist – holding on for dear life.

"I don't know what I'd do without you."

Smiling softly, he presses a kiss against Andy's hair before saying, "Lucky for you, you'll never have to find out."

Pulling her head out from underneath his chin, she tilts her head up to look him in the eyes. "Is that a promise, Swarek?"

"That's a promise, McNally." He replies leaning forward to press a kiss against her forehead. Andy closes her eyes reveling in the feeling of his soft lips against her skin.

"I wish we could stay here all day..," she murmurs when Sam helps her up from the bathroom floor ten minutes later.

Leading her to the sink by the hand, Sam tells her that no one will hold it against her if she just stays up here until it's over. "I can handle it, if you want to just go and lie down," he says pulling out some cotton pads from the cabinet above the vanity unit.

"I can manage," Andy shrugs her shoulders making Sam scoff out loud, as she hoists herself onto the vanity unit.

"McNally," he says pouring some makeup remover solution onto a cotton pad. "It's okay to say that you're not okay, no one in your position would be."

Sam cups her cheek in one hand, while using the other to swipe the cotton pad underneath her left eye, cleaning up the mess that the eyeliner, mascara and her tears have made.

"And what _position_ would that be?" Andy cocks an eyebrow at him when he repeats the motions with her right eye before tossing the dirty cotton pads into the bin.

"Andy, come on," he sighs tilting his head up to gaze at the ceiling not wanting to take advantage of her when she's mourning the loss of her dad.

"Distract me, Sam," she fingers the top button of the black button-down shirt that he has on. "Make the pain go away." Andy begs him, as tears begin to make their way down her cheeks again.

Framing her face with his hands, Sam pushes his lips against her forehead when he feels her nimble fingers unfasten his belt.

"Andy..?" he asks against her skin when she's undoing the button on his black jeans.

"Hmm..," Andy hums, concentrating on the task at hand, which at the moment is to get Sam naked as quickly as humanly possible.

When he through their deep breathing can hear his zipper being lowered, his hands fly down to grasp Andy's in his.

The startled look on her face tells Sam that he's scared her. "I'm sorry, I just..," he closes his eyes on a deep exhale before continuing. "I don't want to take advantage of you when you're like this."

"I just want the pain to go away," Andy tells him, running her teeth through her lower lip. "Please, Sam," she begs him, as a single tear makes its way down her cheek.

Reaching up, Sam dries away the moisture with the pad of his thumb. "On one condition," he says stepping fully into the void that Andy has made for him in-between her thighs.

"What?"

"It gets to be too much for you, you let me know and we stop. Deal?" Sam asks taking Andy's hands, and placing them on his shirt-clad chest.

Smiling weakly up at him, she grabs his face and takes his lips with practiced ease knowing exactly how to snare him in – just in case he'll still resist her. Using her tongue she licks her way into the recesses of Sam's mouth before curling her arms around his neck.

"God, Andy..," Sam groans against her lips. "I've missed you so fucking much."

To say that it's been awhile since they've had sex would be putting it mildly. This past week, their time together has consisted of Sam consoling Andy, telling her that everything will be okay – without really knowing it.

"I've missed you too," pulling away from his lips, Andy presses her forehead against Sam's with her eyes closed.

"You smell so good," he buries his nose in the spot where her neck meets her throat, inhaling deeply, while sliding the zipper of her dress down.

"So do you."

Andy's breathing seems to stop when Sam peels the dress from her upper body, letting it pool around her waist.

"Lift," he instructs her, eying the dress that is now only covering Andy from the waist down.

She uses her arms to lift her butt off of the surface of the vanity unit, so that Sam can get the dress as well as her panties off of her.

Chucking the clothes into a nearby corner, Sam turns back to Andy finding that she's topless as well. "You're sort of _over_-dressed, Swarek." She announces throwing her discarded bra towards the pile of clothes in the corner.

"And what are _you_ gonna do about it, McNally?" he asks raising a questioning brow at her.

Sam gets his answer when she grabs him by the shirt, tackling his mouth with hers, as Andy's fingers begin to unfasten his buttons, one by one.

Reaching up, Andy pushes his shirt down his broad shoulders, revealing the chest that she has spent countless hours caressing.

Stepping back, Sam toes of his shoes and socks before divesting himself of his jeans, boxers and finally the shirt.

While, Andy has watched him strip down, she has closed her naked thighs – suddenly feeling unabashedly naked in front of him.

"Do you still want this?" Sam asks, his eyes searching Andy's for the truth and not what she thinks that he wants to hear.

True, he's naked and so is she. But if she needs them to stop, then he will. This is about Andy, and if he can alleviate some of her pain by being with her, then that's exactly what he'll do – no matter how they go about it.

Pulling her thighs apart, Andy gives Sam the only answer that she can – without any words. He in turn places his hands on each of her thighs before coiling them around his hips.

"No going back?" he asks a minute later, when he's lining them up with one hand, while the other is nestled underneath Andy's butt.

"No going back."

* * *

"God, Sam!" Andy grips his shoulders with her nails, as her second consecutive orgasm is rippling through her body.

The height of the vanity unit is perfect for them. It has just the right height for Sam to slide in an out of her clenching body.

"Oh, I've missed you..," he moans against the side of her neck after they've both come down from their orgasms.

"So have I," Andy nods her agreement against his sweaty cheek. "Never again." She finds his mouth, plunging her tongue in and moaning out loud when Sam begins to suck on it.

They stay entwined like this until their hearts resume a somewhat normal pace, after which they help dress each other again.

"Just say the word." Sam says when they're standing at the top of the stairs.

"I will," Andy nods her head.

Intertwining her fingers with Sam's, they make their way downstairs. Andy knows that if she needs him, he'll be there.

Like he always has been.

* * *

**A/N2: **thank you for reading :)

_Next up: Going through Tommy's stuff proves to be harder than Andy originally thought._


	3. One Day at a Time

**A/N: **Sorry for the confusion for those of you, who follow this story ... I had to re-upload the previous chapters to add a title to them, and doing so meant that you all got a notice that a new chapter had been posted.

Sorry about that ...

Hope you enjoy this chapter, and please leave me a note in the box at the bottom of the page :)

* * *

**[chapter three]**

Sam and Andy have spent the better part of this week going through all of Tommy's things. Claire had offered to help, but Andy had declined the offer, feeling like this had been something, that she'd needed to do on her own – and for some reason it had felt like Claire would be imposing on her dad's privacy.

Andy is putting a couple of photo albums in a box when something catches her eye from the bedside table in her dad's bedroom.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she reaches out and slides Tommy's sobriety coin across the wooden surface before holding it in the palm of her hand.

"One day at a time", Andy repeats the words that are etched into the coin.

* * *

"_My name is Tommy and I'm an alcoholic."_

"_Hello, Tommy," an array of voices replied in unison looking up at Tommy McNally, as he held his one-year sobriety coin in-between two fingers. _

_But it wasn't on account of __**them**__ that he was prouder than he'd ever been before. It was because Andy was sitting a couple of rows down, smiling proudly up at him and that's when he realized that it wasn't just for himself that he was standing up there._

_It was for __**her**__._

_**For**__ Andy._

"_I never thought I would be standing up here," he said. "Mostly because I never thought I had a problem with alcohol, as stupid as that might sound." Tommy nodded his head at his own words recognizing the fact that if it wasn't for Andy, then he'd probably be bottle-deep in vodka right about now – if not dead._

"_But this," he said holding up the coin. "Isn't just for me, it's for my daughter too." Tommy added nodding his head to where Andy was sitting – with tears in her eyes. "She has been the pride and joy of my life ever since the day she was born, and when she gave me an ultimatum; her or the booze – there was no contest."_

_Drying away the tears that had already fallen, Andy inhaled a deep breath remembering that very conversation in the squad car and their talk later that evening at her old apartment where he had agreed to get help._

"_I have always been a very proud man, unrelenting in fact, but when my eyes were finally opened up wide to what I had put my little girl through, then there was no choice to be made, it was crystal clear what I had to do."_

"_So, __**this**__," he said stretching his arm above his head, holding the coin between two fingers, "is my testament to __**you**__, Kiddo," Tommy said looking directly into Andy's eyes. "That I will take one day at a time because that's how much I love you."_

_Bopping her head up and down, Andy smiled through her tears. _

_Later that evening, they had had dinner at their favorite diner, talked about what Tommy's speech had meant to Andy and really just been together like the father and daughter team that they were._

* * *

"Andy?"

"Hmm..," she hums unable to take her eyes off of the coin that is nestled in the palm of her hand.

"You okay?" Sam asks leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded across his chest.

"I…what..?" Andy asks turning her head to look at him with confusion written all over her face.

"You okay?" he repeats his earlier words stepping into the room with his arms hanging at his sides now.

Inhaling deeply, Andy says, "I think I am."

Nodding his head, Sam walks to the edge of the bed, and sits down next to her. "What is that?" he asks eying up the coin.

"It's my dad's sobriety coin," she answers, holding her palm out towards Sam to show him the bronze coin that had belonged to Tommy.

"You were there when he got it?"

"Yeah..," Andy answers wrapping her fingers around the coin. "It was very cathartic; to see him standing up front and center telling everyone how being sober wasn't just for him..," she sighs audibly before adding, "it was for me too."

Pinching the bridge of her nose with two fingers, she begins to shake as a sob is making its way out of her throat.

"Come here," Sam wraps an arm around her shoulders before cradling her quivering body against his. Pressing his lips against the top of Andy's head, he tells her that everything will be okay.

"You don't know that," she sniffles pulling out of their embrace to dry away her tears.

"You're right, I don't." He sighs, while Andy keeps her head bowed. "But what I _do_ know is that I love you," Sam looks at her expectantly, waiting for her to repeat the same sentiment back to him, but she stays quiet.

After a couple of minutes, Andy lifts her head, and smiles meekly at him.

"That's the last of it," she bops her head to where the box is sitting on the bed.

"Okie-doke," Sam acquiesces wondering how long it's been since he's heard Andy actually telling him that she loves him.

It used to be the other way around.

Making his way to the end of the bed, his eyes catches sight of a framed photograph tucked away in the box that Andy has finished packing.

It's a picture taken out in Tommy's backyard of him, Sam and Andy. They had been at Tommy's for dinner, no more than a couple of weeks after their reunion.

Andy had urged her dad to be on his best behavior, but like any father, he had used his _'if you ever hurt my little girl again'_ spiel.

* * *

"_While Andy's out in the kitchen with Amy," Tommy said piercing Sam with the same penetrative gaze that had scared many confessions out of criminals in his time on the force. "I think we need to set a couple of things straight."_

"_Such as..?" Sam asked drawing out the word, as he sat back in the chair he was sitting on._

"_As you know, Andy is my only child, my little girl, and I'll protect her against anything or__** anyone**__, who tries to hurt her."_

"_Tommy, listen..," he began to protest, but the man sitting opposite him, held up his hand halting any words that had been on their way out of Sam's mouth._

"_Let me finish, please," Tommy said before continuing. "She has been through enough as it is, and if __**this**__, " he waved a hand between Sam and the house, where Andy was in. "Is just a stepping stone for you, then as Andy's father I have to…"_

"_My relationship with Andy has never and will never be a stepping stone," Sam interrupted with an edge of finality to his voice._

"_Marlo?" Tommy asked having heard first-hand from his daughter about the woman, who'd replaced her as Sam's girlfriend during her undercover stint._

"_Is out of the picture."_

"_You seem certain," he noted sitting back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest._

"_I am." Sam said. "I will probably always care about her, but I __**love**__ Andy, and she's the person that I want to be with."_

_Nodding his head tentatively, Tommy said, "I know that Cruz has a lot to juggle - what with her mental illness and everything, but I need to know that Andy won't play second violin to her if something goes south with her condition."_

"_She won't." Sliding forward on the chair, Sam looked at Andy's father with a look of determination in his eyes. "Marlo has a lot to deal with; yes. But my loyalties lie with Andy as well as my heart."_

"_That's good to know."_

"_You guys ready?" Andy asked popping her head through the sliding doors leading out onto the back deck in Tommy's backyard. "Because dinner is."_

"_Sounds great, Kiddo," Tommy smiled back. "Just setting a couple of things straight."_

"_Dad!" she all but scolded him. _

"_What..?" he shrugged his shoulders innocently. _

_As the two men stood, Tommy wrapped an arm around Sam's shoulders, giving him a silent warning. "You hurt her again, and I'll make sure that Cruz won't be the only one, who's hospitalized, okay, Sammy?" he grinned brightly at Sam before making his way inside to where Amy was putting the food on the table._

"_You okay?" Andy asked walking towards Sam with an apologetic look on her face._

"_Just dandy," he quipped with his tongue-in-cheek to avoid any unkind words towards Tommy to leave his mouth._

"_I'm sorry," she couldn't keep a small laugh from leaving her mouth, but she amended that with a soft kiss to Sam's cheek._

"_Let's go, __**girlfriend**__," Sam quipped wrapping an arm around Andy's shoulder, as they made their way inside._

* * *

"You ready?" Andy asks pulling Sam out of his trip down memory lane.

"Yeah, yeah..," he answers nodding his head in the positive to her question. Reaching down, he grabs the box and walks to the door.

Andy looks around the bedroom that now only holds empty furniture ready to be picked up by the red-cross movers the next day.

"You coming?" Sam asks from the doorway.

"Just give me a minute," she tells him. Sam nods his head at her words, and makes his way downstairs with the box in his arms.

Wrapping her arms around herself, Andy walks to the window overlooking the backyard. With a heavy sigh, she remembers what her father told her back when he'd leased this house.

* * *

"_It's been something I've wanted to do for years, Kiddo," Tommy told her. "Just never had the means to do it, and when I spotted this place for rent in the local paper, I jumped on the offer."_

"_So, you __**can**__ afford it?" Andy asked skeptically, as always the dutiful-daughter looking out for her old man._

"_I __**can**__." He said bopping his head at her question. "It's perfect for me, and I expect to see your face here on a weekly basis," Tommy informed her, pointing a finger at her, while grinning widely at her._

"_There's no place, I'd rather be," Andy told him right before walking into his arms. He gathered her in his embrace, as Tommy took in the serenity of finally being able to live in a house in a nice neighborhood and holding his little girl in his arms._

"_I love you, Kiddo."_

"_I love you too."_

* * *

Dinner had been quiet.

The only sound that had been heard in Sam's living room had been the clattering of knives and forks, as they'd made contact with the plates.

Sam had even cooked Andy her favorite dish, but even seeing the very dish that Tommy had used to cook for her when she'd been sick or down had put a damper on what had been a very sweet thing of Sam to do.

While he had taken care of the clean-up after dinner, Andy had excused herself and gone to bed. It had only been 7:30 in the evening, but somehow she'd felt like all her energy had been drained out of her.

So, that's why she at midnight can't sleep at all.

Everything that has happened since Tommy died seems to be running on a continuous cycle in her mind.

Sam is snoring softly next to her, and knowing that he's barely sleeping these days either, Andy quietly gets out of bed, and tip-toes out of the room, picking up Sam's discarded tee-shirt on the way and puts it on, as she makes her way downstairs.

Once in the kitchen, she pours herself a glass of water, feeling like her throat is made out of sandpaper. After having poured the glass for the second time, Andy makes her way into the living room where she finds the last box that she'd packed at her dad's, sitting on the coffee table.

She figures that Sam must've gone out to get it in the truck after she'd gone upstairs to sleep.

Andy feels awful that after everything that he has done for her lately, she hadn't even been able to bring herself to enjoy the home-cooked meal that he had made for her.

_Chili._

At a time, it had been the only thing that could put her in a good mood, and it had worked like a charm every time.

Just not tonight.

Deciding to unpack the box, since sleep seems to be evading her tonight, Andy begins to take items out of the box, and that's when she spots _them_.

She vaguely remembers coming across the DVD's, and putting them in the box, but hadn't thought more of it since she'd found her dad's sobriety coin next.

The DVD's display text written in Tommy's tell-tale handwriting that only a selective few have been able to decipher successfully over the years.

Andy is _one_ of those few.

'_**Andy's first day'**_ is written in bold, black letters on the first disc, and she walks to the DVD player and pops it in before walking back to the couch to sit down.

Turning on the TV, making sure that the sound isn't too loud, Andy presses play and immediately a hospital room comes into view, and a much younger looking Claire is holding a new-born Andy in her arms, lying in a hospital bed, while her dad is filming.

* * *

"_Shh…shh, Andrea," Claire hushed the crying infant lying in her arms. "Am I even doing this right, Thomas?" she asked, looking straight into the camera._

"_How would I know..?" her dad's voice quipped, as he walked closer to his wife and daughter._

"_Don't be glib," she warned him, as the baby began to find a contended spot in Claire's arms._

"_There you go, Kiddo," Tommy cooed._

"_It's Andrea, Thomas," Claire corrected him firmly._

"_First off, it's Tommy, Claire __**not**__ Thomas. And secondly, this baby girl of ours is going to have many nicknames, __**'Kiddo'**__ is just one of them."_

"_What are the others?" she asked looking right at the camera again._

"_Sweetheart, Peanut, Baby Girl, Andy..," Tommy used his fingers to count off all the nicknames, that he intended to call their daughter by, and by the time __**'Andy'**__ had come up, Claire's eyes were basically bulging out of her head. _

"_Andrea." Claire persisted, as the camera zoomed in on the now sleeping baby._

"_She's precious," he said caressing the baby's small hand that was fisted. _

"_She is." She agreed nodding her head. "Can __**we**__ do this, Tommy?" Claire asked._

"_Of course we can," he said, as the baby let out a big yawn. "Besides, it's a little late for second thoughts now, don't you think?" Tommy asked._

_Claire shook her head before looking down at their baby girl laying in her arms. "I just worry. I worry about __**you**__ on the job; I worry about __**her**__, about __**our**__ family…"_

"_Shh..," his voice quieted Claire's concerns. "It would be strange if you __**didn't**__ have those concerns, honey, everything is about this little one now," Tommy maintained fiercely._

"_You're right."_

"_Our family."_

"_**Our**__ family," Claire mimicked Tommy's words, as the camera zoomed in on the dark-haired baby girl snoozing contentedly in her mother's arms._

* * *

"Andy?"

Sam's voice pulls her eyes away from the TV-screen and to him standing in the doorway only wearing a pair of black boxers.

"Hey..," Andy whispers in a voice laced with grief, as she shuts the TV off and shuts out all the possible _'what-if's'_ from her mind.

"What are you doing?" he asks folding his arms across his chest.

"Couldn't sleep, so figured I'd unpack instead," she says shrugging her shoulders.

Nodding his head in understanding, Sam walks around the coffee table, and sits down next to Andy on the couch. "What were you watching?"

"Old home movies of my dad's," Andy says casually as if she's just told him what to get at the store tomorrow morning.

"You were watching them alone?" he asks concerned.

"Didn't want to wake you," she mumbles almost incoherently.

"Well..," he leans back against the couch, wrapping an arm around Andy's back before adding. "Feel free to wake me up next time you need me."

"It's just a couple of home movies, Sam," she insists vehemently leaning forward on the couch to avoid the sensation of his fingertips caressing her cotton-clad shoulder. "I'm fine."

Scoffing, Sam wraps an arm around Andy's waist, and hauls her to him so that her back is pressed up against the back of the couch, and her side is cradled against his. "I get it, okay?" he says. "I _get_ that you want to take care of _this_ alone, but the thing is Andy, that in grief there's no alone about it."

"You did." She tells him making them both remember how Jerry's death had impacted their relationship, and in some way still did.

"No, I _didn't_. I didn't deal with what happened, because if I had, then none of what happened last year would've happened. I've learned my lesson the hard way."

Reaching out, Andy picks up Tommy's sobriety coin, and holds it between two fingers. "I feel like I've been split down the middle, Sam. I don't even feel like _me_ anymore."

"You're _still_ Andy McNally," he maintains pressing his lips against her shoulder.

"Am I?" she asks looking at him with tears shining in her eyes. "Every memory, every smell, _anything_ that I've ever associated with my dad makes me want to break down and cry for days on end, but I can't do that because I have to stay strong."

"For who?" Sam asks tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Doesn't matter," Andy shrugs dispassionately.

"It matters to _me_."

Taking a deep breath, she begins to explain. "I've always been the strong one, Sam. The one, who had a handle on _everything_. School, basketball practice, parent-teacher nights and so forth. My dad taught me very early in life, that the only person you can count on is yourself, and that if you don't protect yourself from what hurts, then you're setting yourself up for failure."

"So, to grieve is to _fail_?" he asks rubbing at his tired face.

"Yes."

Turning towards Andy on the couch, Sam frames her face with his hands needing her to really listen to what he's about to say. "You're not a failure, and you're _not_ your dad. You _are_ Andy McNally…"

"Sam..," she sighs trying to back out of his hold, but he doesn't give up on getting through to her, so she stays put.

"The man that you just watched on that movie was someone, who had hopes for the future, a future with you and Claire. Now, that future may not have gone, as he'd hoped that it would, but _that_ man would never say that grieving is a failure, he'd say that it would be a show of strength."

Tears are running down Andy's cheeks, as she takes in what Sam is saying.

"He was a good man."

"Of course he was a good man, baby. Of course he was," Sam says. "But being his daughter doesn't mean that you have to walk in each and every one of his footsteps. You need to make a road for yourself, one that'll make _you _happy."

"How?" she asks running her teeth through her bottom lip.

"I'll help you," Sam promises using his thumbs to dry away the moisture on her cheeks. "Will you let me?"

Nodding her head, Andy gasps out a "Yes," before crawling into Sam's lap, and letting his arms embrace her.

"I'm here, Andy," he hums against her hair, as her arms tighten around his neck needing to feel the warmth of his body close to her own.

"I know," she breathes deeply burrowing her face into the spot between his shoulder and neck that she loves. "Wouldn't be able to breathe if you weren't."

* * *

**A/N2: **thank you for reading :)

_Next up: It's Andy's first day back at work, and busying herself with work isn't as easy as she thought._


	4. Just to Forget

**A/N: **thank you for all the wonderful replies everyone :)

Sam might come across as somewhat of a hard-ass in this one, but he isn't in my eyes. He's Detective Sam Swarek, and the dynamics between him and Andy have changed since becoming a Detective. So, whereas before where he wasn't afraid to break the rules, he now has a lot to answer to if a case goes sideways.

So, I hope it makes sense, and that you won't want to throw things at your computer screen ;) but he does make it up to Andy in the last part of the chapter.

Enjoy!

* * *

**[chapter four]**

"You ready?"

Turning the ignition of the truck off, Sam turns to face Andy, who is staring straight out of the front window of the vehicle.

"Hey..," he reaches over, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear making Andy turn her face towards Sam's with a confused look on her face. "You ready?" Sam repeats his earlier question.

Shaking her head slightly, Andy narrows her eyes at his question. "Sorry, what did you say?" she asks.

Smiling carefully at her, Sam asks her for the third time if she's ready to go in.

Today is Andy's first day back at 15 Division since Tommy's death, and to say that Sam is worried about her would be an understatement of the century.

"Of course," she says plastering the fakest smile of them all on her lips.

"Andy..," Sam sighs making it obvious that he wants her to tell him the truth, and not what she thinks, he wants to hear.

"I'm _managing_, Sam."

Andy barely got a small piece of toast down this morning, and is living off of energy drinks, which makes her on edge and irritably. Mind you those are the times when she's not locked inside the bathroom with the water running, while she's crying her heart out.

So, if she says that she's managing, then Sam says that she's evading.

"You need to eat."

"I eat." Andy argues keeping her gaze locked on a couple of their colleagues passing through the parking lot of the Division.

"Properly." Sam adds using his thumb and index finger to tilt Andy's face towards his, making her look him in the eye. "Promise me, that you'll take care of yourself _out there_?" he asks of her.

He trusts her judgment one hundred percent, but with everything that has gone down lately, and Andy's refusal to let him in, then he worries that she could easily get distracted out on the streets and with him off of the streets, he can't protect her.

Nodding her head slowly, Andy says, "I promise."

"Alright, come on," Sam tells her, as they get out of the truck. He waits by the bonnet, as Andy shuts the passenger door before meeting up with him in front of the truck. "You ready?" he asks wrapping an arm around the tops of her shoulders.

"Yeah..," Andy sighs, as they make their way to the back entrance of the Division.

* * *

Sam had dropped Andy off at the women's locker room, placing a soft kiss on her lips before telling her that he'd see her in parade.

She is standing by her locker, buttoning her shirt when Traci enters the room, engulfing Andy in her arms mid-button.

"Nice to see you too, Trace," she greets her best friend taken aback.

"How are you doing?" she asks rubbing Andy's back soothingly.

"I'm managing."

"You've said that word so much lately, that it hardly counts as a word anymore," Gail offers a couple of lockers down.

Stepping back from their embrace, Traci gives Andy the once-over with the eyes that have prompted many confessions out of criminals by now. "Are you eating?"

"You sound like Sam," she scoffs, tucking her shirt into her pants.

"Swarek is right, you look awful," Gail quips slamming her locker shut before leaving the two friends alone.

Glaring after the blonde, Andy shakes her head on a deep sigh.

"The wound is still fresh," Traci says hinting to the fact that Gail is still reeling from what happened between Andy and Nick a year ago.

"We all have wounds," Andy says making Nash want to kick herself for her poor choice of words.

"God!" she exclaims. "I am so sorry, Andy. Me and my big mouth," Traci apologizes vehemently.

"Don't worry about it," Andy brushes her apology off with a wave of her hand.

Sighing, Traci sits down on the bench in front of the lockers, looking at her friend, as Andy gathers her hair in a make-shift ponytail before tying it up with a hair tie.

"I know about mourning, Andy, and if you need to…"

"Talk?" Andy huffs, slamming her locker shut before turning on her heel to look at Traci.

"Yes, _talk_." Nash enunciates the word with an edge in her tone of voice making it clear to Andy that talking is the only way to deal with Tommy's death. "I know that for me after Jerry…" Traci begins to say, but is halted when Andy holds up a hand, pausing her.

"I really can't Trace..," the hitch in Andy's voice tells Traci that she is on the verge of tears. "I just have to get through this day, and tomorrow and the one after that." She tells her. "That's all I can think about right now; taking it one day at a time."

Traci is nodding her head at Andy's words when a deep voice asks, "Am I interrupting anything?"

Both women's heads move in the direction of where the voice is coming from, and find Sam standing a couple feet away. The only difference in his appearance from when they drove to work and to now is that he's eighty-sixed his leather jacket and is wearing his badge on his hip.

"Nothing important," Traci shrugs at her partner before rubbing Andy's arm on her way out of the locker room.

Unable to look at Sam, Andy turns around, opening up her locker again to get her cell phone out, pretending to check it for messages.

"Are you ignoring me?" he asks walking closer.

"Why would I be doing that?" she asks putting the device on silent before tucking it into one of the pockets in her uniform pants.

"Will you look at me?" Sam pleads with Andy's rigid back.

"What?" she asks closing her locker before turning around to face him.

"Is this about this morning?"

"Is _what_ about this morning?" Andy asks on a sigh. She knows exactly what Sam is talking about, but she doesn't want to get into it now.

Not on her first day back.

The truth is that had Tommy not died, this morning would have been wonderful. Early mornings with Sam used to be her favorite time of the day.

His early morning stubble pressing against her soft cheek had usually meant a good start to the day, but somehow with everything that is weighing down on her these days, the mere thought of being intimate with him had made her bolt from the shower.

* * *

_Sam had been fast asleep when Andy had woken up, so she'd tip-toed into the bathroom and turned the temperature way up high before sliding the shower door closed._

_She had been so engrossed in the task of rinsing the conditioner out of her hair, that she hadn't heard the shower door open nor had she heard it close again._

_It wasn't until a pair of hands were wrapped around her narrow waist that she knew that Sam wasn't asleep anymore, and neither was his manhood._

_Her fingers stalled in her long tresses, as she felt his erection straining against her rear. It didn't take his lips long to find her sensitive spot; the one right beneath her ear that Sam's mouth seemed to be directly hot-linked to._

"_Good morning..," the warmth of his breath reached Andy's cheek causing a chill to run down her spine despite the very warm water that was pouring from the shower head._

"_Hey..," Andy's voice was nothing but a whisper, while she covered Sam's hands on her stomach with her own. "I thought you were asleep. Didn't want to wake you."_

"_Can't seem to sleep without __**you**__ anymore," he said tightening his arms around Andy's waist as he placed several hot kisses on her shoulder. "How you feeling?" Sam spoke against the side of her face._

"_I'm __**managing**__."_

"_Of course you are," Sam said, his chin perched on her shoulder. Despite the fact that Andy couldn't see his face, she knew that he'd probably just rolled his eyes at her new cop-out._

_Turning around slowly, Andy looked up at Sam timidly. It was almost as if standing naked opposite him was somehow scary. The last time they'd been intimate with each other had been the day of Tommy's funeral – in the same room even, but ever since that day, she had shied away from any physical contact with him – except for the occasional hug or hand holding of course._

"_I love you," Sam said cupping Andy's cheeks in his hands, while looking into her eyes with that penetrative gaze of his._

_There were those three words again._

"_I know."_

_Andy closed her eyes letting Sam's words sink in as well as her own. She couldn't say it; she couldn't tell him that she loved him. _

_Not right now._

_He pressed his forehead against hers, and then Andy felt the texture of Sam's lips on hers. He didn't nip, kiss or lick, he was just __**there**__._

_Waiting._

"_I love you, baby," he repeated his earlier words, probing at the seam of her lips with his tongue – seeking entrance. "And I __**know**__ that you love me too."_

_That was all that Andy needed to hear, and with a whimper she opened her mouth and latched onto his tongue with her lips. Curling her arms around Sam's neck, she gasped upon feeling his erection touch her sex and it was the equivalent of being dashed with a bucket of ice-cold water._

_Pressing her hands against Sam's wet chest, she pulled her lips off of his, making him narrow his eyes at her in confusion._

"_What is it?"_

"_I'm sorry," Andy breathed. "But I can't."_

_And with that, she hurried out of the shower, leaving a very bewildered Sam behind, whose only option was to turn the hot water to cold in an attempt to rid his body of the hardness it had just achieved._

_So, he did._

* * *

"I need some time, Sam," Andy tells him beginning to walk past him, but stops mid-step when Sam reaches out, grabbing her elbow.

"We need to talk."

"Work-related?" she sighs.

"Yes," he answers, wishing that she wouldn't sound so hopeful.

"What is it?" Andy asks taking a step back to create a couple of feet of distance between them, which is another thing that she seems to be doing lately.

Creating distance between them.

"We're working a cold case today."

"Okay..," Andy narrows her eyes at Sam in confusion wondering why he'd need to tell her that piece of information in private.

"Frank and I have agreed that you can work it…" he tries to say, but is cut off by Andy.

"Hang on," she holds up both hands, pausing Sam. "You and Frank _agreed_..?" Andy almost trips over that word, wondering if they've landed back in the eighteenth century when women did what the men ordered them to.

No freaking way!

"Andy, please..," Sam groans pinching the bridge of his nose, contemplating how they'll ever get through this day.

"What?!" she asks exasperatedly holding both arms out from her body in frustration. "What is it, you're not telling me, Sam?"

"It's one of your dad's old cases."

And just like that, everything falls into place for Andy.

* * *

Several hours later, Sam is at his wit's end. Everything that he had tried to keep from happening had happened.

The same suspect that Tommy had interrogated years ago had been pulled in again, and while Sam had been occupied with a witness, Andy had taken it upon herself to interrogate Phillip Watkins on her own.

He had recognized the McNally-name instantly, as it had been displayed on Andy's Kevlar vest.

Watkins had heard about Tommy's passing, and had tormented Andy with it, and she had fallen right into his trap. She had revealed their cards, which Sam had wanted to keep hidden from Watkins since the best way to trip up a guy like him would be to wait for the perfect time, and then pounce on him with the information they had recently gathered.

But by the time, that Sam had been notified of what had gone down in the interrogation room, it had been over.

Watkins had clamped up, and had grinned brightly when Andy had been pulled from the interrogation room.

"How could you let this happen, Sam?!" Best roars inside the confines of Sam and Traci's office. "You _promised_ me, that you'd keep an eye on her."

"I know..," Sam sighs. "I'm sorry, Boss." He apologizes.

Frank Best is known for the respect and proverbial long leash that he gives his officers, and everyone knows that he has a soft spot for Sam, and by extension Andy, but this is messed up.

Taking a couple of minutes to cool off, Best asks the Detective where they're at now with Watkins. 15 Division had been entrusted to handle this cold case from way up high, and if Frank knows his bosses right, then there'll be hell to pay if they don't fix this, and fast.

"I'll fix it."

Frank nods his head at Sam's assurance, knowing that he'll do everything in his power to get Watkins this time around. "And McNally?" he asks from the doorway of the office.

Leaning back in his chair, Sam gives his Staff Sergeant a look that says that he has no idea what he's going to do about Andy.

"I'll put her on desk duty for the remainder of the shift," he tells Frank, who gives a nod of acceptance back.

"She got back too soon, Sam."

"Yeah..," he admits sadly.

When Frank opens the door, Andy is sitting in a chair outside the office. Best gives her a disapprovingly look before heading back to his office.

Walking into Sam's office, she shuts the door after her before taking a seat by the edge of his desk awaiting a reprimand.

He keeps on looking over the paperwork, not giving Andy the time of day. It isn't until she clears her throat for the umpteenth time, that Sam turns his chair to face her and asks her, "What the hell were you thinking?" that she knows, that she's screwed up.

Big time.

* * *

"You can man the desk with Price."

"What? No!" Andy exclaims. "I should be out on the streets helping…"

"I think you've helped quite enough, don't you?" Sam unwittingly snaps at her, but besides the fact that the entire Watkins case might be ruined, then he's working on a couple of hours of sleep, so patience isn't his friend right now.

"That's not fair."

"Really?" he asks raising an eyebrow at her. "What's not fair, Andy," Sam says leaning forward to look her straight in the eyes. "Is to have a case ruined because an officer of this Division figures that the rules don't apply to her."

"What..?"

"I _told_ you to keep a low profile, to shadow Traci and work the case from the angle that she chose to work it from. Frank wanted me to pull you, but I didn't, because you _promised_ me that you could handle it. And now it's my ass that's on the line!"

"Traci didn't..," Andy starts to say, but is cut off when Sam slams his palm against the surface of his desk in agitation.

"Nash is the Detective here, Andy, and she says what goes!"

"But I know..," she tries again, but Sam won't hear any of it.

"You _don't_ know, Andy! But I'll tell you what I _do_ know. _I_ know that after months of surveillance, documentation and paper trails, you managed in a matter of minutes to ruin any progress the cold-case unit had made with Watkins because you decided to take matters into your own hands."

"Traci wasn't pushing him hard enough, Sam," Andy gets in when Sam has turned to look at his computer screen. "He was playing her."

"And you pushed him _too_ far." Sam returns sharply. "Price is waiting," he adds making Andy narrow her eyes at him.

"Sam, please. Just give me another chance."

Swiveling around in his chair, Sam gives Andy a pair of blazing browns before telling her how lucky she is. "Frank wanted to put you on sick leave, but I convinced him to let you work, Andy, because I know that that's where you need to be right now."

"Thank you."

"Don't confuse me letting you work for accepting what you did. It was stupid, it was reckless and you've put Traci and me in a difficult situation."

"I'm…"

"I _know_ that you're sorry, Andy…" Sam says rubbing his temples.

Shaking her head at Sam's refusal to see things from her perspective, Andy gets up from the chair, and walks to the closed door of the office.

"My dad used to talk about Watkins. He never stopped beating himself up for not being able to lock that animal up. It was right after Claire had left, and when he was ordered to let the case go, his drinking started. He always said that no matter what you do as a cop, you're a person first. That was what I was in there, and I _am_ sorry that I went behind your back, Sam, but Traci wasn't the right person to interrogate him. I _was_."

"So you took matters into your own hands?" Sam asks standing up from his desk with his hands buried in his pockets.

Scoffing, Andy looks up into the ceiling wondering why he can't support her on this. "Why is it that it's okay when _you_ do it, but not _me_?" she asks pointing a finger at herself.

"Because _I'm_," he jabs a finger into his chest for effect before continuing. "The one that the crap lands on when you botch up a case!"

Andy can't believe what she's hearing. All Sam cares about is how it affects _him_, not whether or not it was the right thing to do.

And it _was_.

"If I'm so stupid, reckless and just plain useless then why don't I just get out of your hair?!" she snatches the door open, and slams it shut before heading towards the locker room to change.

"God dammit!" Sam shouts kicking his chair so hard that it ends up hitting the wall with a loud thud.

* * *

"What can I do you for?" an elderly man asks an hour later when Andy is standing in a liquor store ready to make a purchase that is sure to make her forget the last couple of hours.

"These, please," she tells him placing four bottles of vodka on the counter. Pulling out her wallet, while he takes his time tapping in the prices on the cash register, Andy comes across a photograph in her wallet of her and Sam.

He's called her cell probably a hundred times by now, him and Traci both. They're worried, she knows that they are, but this is something that they can't help her with.

Forgetting.

"You sure you're alright, Miss?" the elderly man asks her.

_God_, how Andy hates being asked that.

"I'm _fine_."

* * *

As it turns out, the Detectives of 15 Division catch a break. A witness no one had known about steps forward right when they're about to give up all hope of being able to lay charges on Watkins.

Traci handles the witness as well as Watkins because Sam is nowhere clear minded enough to handle it, all he's thinking about is Andy and where she is.

Nash had caught him right before he'd been about to go after Andy, but had convinced him to let her get some air before talking to her.

"Still no answer?" Traci asks when Sam jabs the disconnect button on his cell phone rather violently after having re-dialed Andy's number for the umpteenth time.

"Nope," he rubs at his tired face.

"Sam..," her voice is careful, which makes him realize that Nash is about to tell him something that he may not want to hear.

"Out with it, Nash," Sam folds his arms across his chest awaiting whatever it is, that his partner wants to tell him.

"Have you discussed therapy with Andy?"

Therapy?

"She's mourning the loss of her father, Nash. That doesn't mean that she has to talk to a shrink." Sam maintains feeling the need to stand up for the woman that he loves.

"What happened here today wasn't just the actions of someone, who's mourning, Sam. She's struggling, she's desperate – you mean to tell me, that your relationship is the same as before all of this happened?"

"I know that you feel like Andy stepped on your toes today, Nash..," he begins to say, but is halted when Traci interrupts him.

"That's _not_ what this is about. Andy was out of control today in the interrogation room, she all but pounced on the guy, and you can't tell me that that's normal."

"Who's to say what's normal?" Sam asks shrugging his shoulders.

"_We_ are. The people, who love and care about her!" Traci maintains vehemently. "She's been _off_ ever since Tommy died, and I know that she has to mourn him, but mourning him is one thing, acting completely out of character is another thing entirely."

"So, what do you suggest?"

"Here," Traci passes Sam a card. "She helped me out after Jerry was killed."

"Carol Banks..," he tastes her name on his tongue, as he lets the card rest between two fingers contemplating how to approach Andy with this.

"She needs to talk to someone, and since she won't talk to us, then a therapist seems to be the logical next step."

* * *

It's dark once Sam steers the truck into his driveway. Boo's usually barking his little head off whenever the sound of the truck's engine reaches his ears, but for some reason it's eerily quiet when Sam shuts the engine off.

Looking up, he notices that a single lamp is turned on in the living room, and he wonders if Andy's even home or if she's staying at her own place tonight. They definitely didn't leave each other on good terms earlier; he figures that he'll find out when he gets inside.

Boo meets him right inside the door, but the dog isn't wagging his tail like he usually does with his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth. No, instead Boo's whimpering and his ears are lying down instead of standing up straight on alert.

"What's up, boy?" Sam asks patting the dog on his head. He gets a bark in reply before Boo's patting his way into the living room.

After hanging up his leather jacket in the hallway closet and toing off his shoes, Sam follows the dog into the living room, and all the air leaves his lungs with the sight that meets him on the couch.

"Oh my God, Andy."

She is lying face down on the couch, snoring softly, while a half-empty bottle of vodka is sitting on the coffee table.

Boo is bumping his wet nose against Andy's cheek, whimpering because his favorite lady won't wake up to pat his head like she'd normally do. Sam wonders silently how long the dog has been at it; trying to wake her up.

Squatting down by the couch, Sam gently pushes Boo out of the way, which results in the dog grumpily lying down a couple of feet away, but not too far away though.

"Andy?" Sam pushes a tendril of hair that's escaped her pony tail behind her ear, as he uses his other hand to measure her pulse. "Baby, wake up." He kisses her cheek once he's made sure that her pulse is beating strong.

He doesn't get an answer.

"Alright," he supports Andy's body with his arms, as he gets her into a sitting position on the couch before scooping her up in his arms. Her cheek is resting against Sam's chest, as he climbs the stairs with a Labradoodle hot on their trail.

Once in the bedroom, Sam lowers Andy to the bed, thankful for the fact that neither of them had thought to make the bed this morning. He tucks her in before making Boo lie down on his cot in the corner of the bedroom with a snap of his fingers.

After having cleaned up the living room, and brushed his teeth, Sam joins Andy in bed. His head has barely touched his pillow, when he feels her shift in bed. She turns onto her side, curling an arm around his chest, and inserting a leg between both of Sam's right before Andy's head finds its natural resting place on his chest.

Releasing the hair tie from her hair, Sam combs his fingers through her hair. Andy moans at his touch, and tightens her hold on him in her sleep.

"I'm sorry..," she whimpers against his skin, as Sam's fingers continue to play with her long tresses.

This morning, Sam had never thought that they'd end the day like this; Andy passed out in his arms. But at least she's here.

With him.

"I love you, Andy," he whispers against her hair.

"I love you too," her throaty voice replies. "Too much."

Sam gathers her tightly against the side of his body, wishing for the first time ever that he could read her mind.

Andy is an enigma.

She's _his_.

And they _will_ find their way out of this mess.

Together.

* * *

**A/N2: **please leave a word or two in the box below ;)

_Next up: It's the next morning and talking is for once not what Andy does best._


End file.
